I recently read that President Joe Biden is now facing the same battle I’ve been fighting — stage 4 prostate cancer that has spread to the bones.
It was both humbling and affirming to read, a powerful reminder that no amount of money, access, or privilege can make anyone immune from cancer.
Even with the best medical care available, this disease remains a great equalizer. It doesn’t discriminate by title, position, or status — and it reminds us all of our shared humanity.
According to reports, President Biden was diagnosed earlier this year with an aggressive form of prostate cancer (Gleason score 9). The cancer has spread to his bones, though — like mine — not to any major organs. He is undergoing radiation therapy and hormone treatments, with his physicians noting that the cancer is hormone-sensitive, which means it may respond well to ongoing treatment.
It’s a strange comfort to know that someone leading a nation faces the same daily challenges — scans, appointments, treatments, side effects, and emotions — that so many of us endure. His openness about his health sends a message to millions of men around the world: you are not alone, and early detection truly matters.
Many of you have followed my journey from the beginning, and I am beyond grateful for every message, call, and word of encouragement. Here’s where things stand now:
My Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA), once at an astonishing 840 (yes, eight hundred and forty), continues to hold steady around 42. For perspective, normal levels range from 0–4 — so the progress remains remarkable.
The cancer remains in my femurs, pelvis, spine, and shoulders, but thankfully none of my organs are affected.
I continue walking at least 5,000 steps daily and staying active by attending local events and seeing friends around Houston.
My daily routine still starts with a glass of lemon water before anything else. I’ve cut sugar completely, reduced coffee to one cup a day, and switched primarily to decaffeinated black tea with just half a spoon of honey when needed.
Here’s what my regular diet includes:
Aged cheddar (crumbly, English-style — thank you, Costco)
Free-range eggs
Butter from grass-fed cows
Protein drinks
Nuts and frozen blueberries for snacks
Half a kiwi a day
Sourdough bread only — all white, wheat, muffins, and cakes are out
For proteins:
Albacore tuna, salmon steaks, and sardines
Buffalo (bison) ground and in steaks
Grass-fed beef and lamb in small portions
Chicken, now added as a regular part of the mix — simply grilled or baked
Every food choice is intentional. It’s not about restriction — it’s about restoration. These meals fuel not just my body, but my recovery, clarity, and peace of mind.
I’ve just been notified that I’ll be undergoing ten different tests around December 15th. These include scans, labs, and imaging to ensure a full health review. The goal is to have all results ready before my next oncology appointment on December 30th, where we’ll assess my progress and next phase of treatment.
It’s a lot to process, but I remain focused, faithful, and grateful for every improvement — and for the strength that comes from sharing this journey openly.
As a new work week begins, I want to wish everyone a very happy and productive start. Enjoy every day to its fullest, no matter what’s on your schedule. Each sunrise is a fresh opportunity to grow, give thanks, and find joy in simple things.
While I feel strong and active when out and about, there are side effects most people don’t see. During my radiation treatment, I experienced no immediate pain or complications — but about two weeks afterward, I noticed that my back had turned completely black in the areas where the radiation was focused.
It’s now slowly returning to normal, looking very much like a severe sunburn. We apply cream daily to keep the skin soft and flexible — but it itches like crazy! It’s a strange reminder that healing often happens beneath the surface, where others may not see.
Still, every bit of progress counts, and every day is a blessing.
Seeing President Biden face this same battle brings perspective. Cancer is the great equalizer — it doesn’t matter if you’re sitting in the White House or a waiting room in Houston. What matters is how we face it, how we adapt, and how we lift each other through it.
So to everyone walking this road — whether newly diagnosed, in remission, or supporting a loved one — stay hopeful, stay disciplined, and keep living each day with intention. Healing comes not just through medicine, but through mindset, movement, and meaning.
With gratitude and strength,
Pius Dawson